


Sweetness There That Grows

by Corollaire



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/F, also bondage, and Vairë by mention, by which i mean magical plant bondage, this is a fic about magical plants, yavanna has a creepy garden
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-18
Updated: 2014-03-18
Packaged: 2018-01-16 04:05:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1331269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corollaire/pseuds/Corollaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nessa pays a visit to Yavanna's infamous gardens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweetness There That Grows

**Author's Note:**

> Written for femslash-today's Porn Battle, prompt "Yavanna/Nessa, vines"

Yavanna's gardens were deep and tangled, the silver and gold light that filtered in through the arching trees tinted green by the fluttering leaves. The air itself felt damp and thick as Nessa breathed in, somehow _heavier_ than it had any right to be. The low hum of cicadas sounded from deep within the garden, a wavering noise that reminded her of summer.

She took a step in, felt her feet sink into the rich dirt.

This place was new to her––was, in fact, the best-hidden place in Aman, the paths leading to it twisted and seeded with snares to beguile the idle visitor. But Nessa was swift, her curiosity a force to be reckoned with, and Yavanna let slip much in the security of Nessa's bower. Besides, there were only so many places that a garden could be hidden, even when Vairë's threads were warping the ways to reach it.

(And if Vairë had helped along the way, had _twisted_ the fabric of the world in that way she had, to make this garden accessible to Nessa––well, they all owed each other debts of one kind or another, in the end.)

Regardless. She had reached Yavanna's garden, and the mistress of this land was nowhere to be found.

Somewhere deeper within, a bird trilled, the sound muffled by the heavy air. Nessa started, then had to bite back a laugh at her own jumpiness.

_Well. I am here, so I might as well explore, no?_

She took another step, brushing her fingers along the leaves of a climbing vine. Belatedly, she remembered that not all of Yavanna's plants were safe to touch, and snatched her hand back. She leaned in to inspect one of the flowers, frowning at the wide pitcher-shape of it, the sticky gleam at the lips. There was a fly trapped down there, buzzing wings caught in the liquid that pooled in the flower's throat. She pulled back, startled, and felt the heat of the garden pressing on her skin, sweat prickling at the back of her neck.

Nessa returned to the center of the path, skirting a large white growth that was too large to be a mushroom and too distinctively fungal to be anything else. On closer inspection, the smooth surface seemed to be leaking something dark red.

She had intended to sneak up on Yavanna, but was starting to wonder if leaving might not be a good idea after all.

She gave up on trying to approach quietly. "Yavanna?"

The buzzing cicadas fell silent.

Nessa found that her muscles had tensed entirely of their own accord, ready to fly.

_No. Keep going. She'll be here somewhere._

She swallowed, trying to fight down the nervous way her throat was clenching. There was nothing here that could truly harm her, after all.

Eyes peered back at her from the edge of the path and she lept back, only to realize that they were merely berries, bone-white with black centers, strung on blood-red stems. And beside them, a plant with a curious two-part structure, two flat halves striped with red and edged with long spikes. She leaned in, curious, and an amused voice spoke from behind her.

"I see you managed to find your way here."

Nessa whirled, grinning. "Yavanna! How nice to see you."

The Valië nodded, crossing to stand beside her, feet soundless in the dirt. "This one is one of my favorites," she noted, running a finger along the smooth back of the spiked plant. Nessa could have sworn she saw it quiver under the touch. "Reminds me of you, somehow. Let an unwitting insect cross these leaves and––" She illustrated a snapping motion with her fingers. Nessa laughed.

"And why, pray tell, would that remind you of _me_?"

Yavanna merely smiled and gestured down the path. "I have prepared a clearing that may be more to your liking."

Nessa followed her, not bothering to deny that the plants near the entrance had set her on edge in a vaguely unpleasant sort of way. There was something strange about flowers that trapped insects for sustenance, a reversal of the way it should be.

The clearing Yavanna had spoken of was only a few steps away, yet when she looked back, Nessa could no longer see the entrance. It might have been the warping effect of whatever Vairë had done to hide this in a fold of the universe, but Nessa strongly suspected that the plants themselves had moved to hide the path.

"This is much better," she told Yavanna, sinking to the ground beside a spreading oak tree. "How did you know I was coming?"

"Who do you suppose told Vairë to prepare a way for you?" Yavanna sat beside her, ran a finger along the back of Nessa's hand. "And that was not the only thing I have prepared."

"And what––" Nessa broke off as she felt something caressing her _other_ hand, the touch delicate and cool. Startled, she glanced down to find a green vine poking from the ground, a thin tendril reaching up to encircle her wrist.

"This?" She laughed, making to pull away, and the laughter died in her throat as she realized that the tendril was stronger than it looked. Her eyes darted back to Yavanna, noted the laughter in her green eyes.

"I thought this would, ah... _please_ you."

Nessa's eyes widened as more tendrils burst from the dirt, winding their way up her arms. Within seconds, her wrists were pinned to the ground. Yavanna merely looked amused.

Vines were climbing up her legs, now, securing her ankles. She yelped as a tendril brushed her inner thigh, and Yavanna slapped it away, chuckling.

Faster than she would have thought possible, Nessa found herself completely immobilized.

"Comfortable?" Yavanna asked.

Nessa tested the vines, was not entirely surprised when they did not allow her to move more than an inch in any direction. "Would it be foolish to ask what you intend to do now?"

The smile that spread across Yavanna's face at that was more than a little wolf-like. She rested her hand on Nessa's hip and leaned in to brush her lips against Nessa's cheek.

"Whatever I wish," she breathed, still smiling. "This _is_ my garden, after all, and you were the fool who walked in willingly. My land, my rules."

Nessa found it suddenly very hard to breathe.

The vines tightened around her ankles, drawing her legs apart. She struggled briefly, but fell back limp when Yavanna pressed a hand to her hip, the touch comforting.

 _You trust me, don't you?_ her eyes seemed to say, and Nessa took a deep breath before nodding. She let her head fall back against the grass, felt the vines encircling her shoulders, leaves brushing her throat.

Yavanna's hand drifted higher, pushing the thin fabric of Nessa's dress aside and tracing slow circles across bare skin. Nessa instinctively arched into her touch, and bit back a groan when the vines tightened.

The touch returned, teasing and light, and Nessa squeezed her eyes shut, trying to focus on Yavanna's fingers and not the way the warmth curling at the pit of her stomach made her want to whimper.

The vines shifted, tugging her legs a little further apart, and she realized how remarkably _exposed_ she felt, spread-eagled on the grass like this and unable to move.

Hot breath tickled her stomach, and her eyes flew open. Yavanna had moved to kneel between Nessa's legs, and she spared Nessa one teasing glance before lowering her mouth again.

Nessa bucked against the vines restraining her, a strangled cry torn from her throat, and Yavanna's hands were on her hips, steadying her, and her tongue sliding so damned _slowly_ , like she wanted to draw this out––

She tried to rock her hips forward, couldn't. Her head fell back against the grass, breath coming faster as Yavanna's lips continued their slow trajectory downwards.

"Faster," she gasped, and felt the soft chuff of Yavanna's laughter against her, the deliberate way she slowed the movement of her tongue.

Again and again, Nessa approached the edge of release, and again and again, Yavanna pulled back just short of allowing it. Nessa would have sworn that this stretched on forever––the surging _want_ pooling between her legs, the helpless way her breath sobbed in and out of her throat every time Yavanna withdrew.

It was not until her dress (hiked up around her waist, well out of Yavanna's way) was dark with sweat and her entire body trembling with need that Yavanna's tongue flicked out once, twice, and let Nessa go.

The world whited out for a heartbeat, Nessa's body straining against the vines that held her down.

When she came back to herself, gasping, the vines curled away, retreating back into the ground. Yavanna's arms were around her, quieting her shuddering limbs. Nessa breathed deep, smelling the rain-drenched earth scent of her lover.

"To your liking, eh?" Yavanna whispered, and Nessa kissed her instead of answering, not quite trusting her vice to hold steady.


End file.
